


Things we lost to the fire

by Pickl3lily



Series: Killerwave 2016 [6]
Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV), The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, KillerWave Week 2016, Like Beauty and the Beast, Magic!AU, Slight Royalty!AU, Transformation, but not.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-06-10
Packaged: 2018-07-14 07:15:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7159145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pickl3lily/pseuds/Pickl3lily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>KillerWave week 2016 - Day 6: Magic!AU</p><p>Caitlin enchants Mick in a fit of revenge following his blatant disrespect... Oh shit, this wasn’t the plan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things we lost to the fire

 

When Mick agreed to pull this job, it was meant to be simple; kidnap the princess, ransom her back to her father. Nobody would get hurt, he and Len would be their weights richer in gold. Win-win. He could finally be someone, get some respect instead of people treating him like a prize buffoon just because he was certainly not a genius and his aunt had left him her castle and land in her will – having gambled away all of her fortune and assets. Nobody mentioned anything about the princess being of a magical bloodline.

Of course, Mick had been the one responsible for the crime – he was the brawn to Len’s brains. “You idiot. Do you even know who I am?” Had been the first words that Caitlin Snow had ever spoken to him, and he couldn’t help but appreciate the venom in her words, the fire burning in her eyes. He scoffed, polishing his dagger with the make-shift rag of his own shirt, trying to keep himself busy, not allowing himself to listen to the call of the embers as they crackled invitingly from the hearth. “Well, yeah. Didn’t grab you for the conversation. Wanna wife someday, but they ain't exactly fans of paupers. Need the money – nothing personal.”

This really, _really_ didn’t appease her. Her eyes, a beautiful hazel turned a misty blue while her hair seemed to become lighter and lighter. “Nothing. _Personal?_ ” The words were hissed out at him, spoken like dirty words as all of the heat seemed to vanish from the room. But never let it be said that Mick put the shovel down when he still had the opportunity to dig his own grave. “Well yeah – I mean, if it was about the company, I probably woulda gone for a whore – they listen ‘cause they have to and they ain’t prudish like you princesses’.” A snapping sound alerted Mick to the fact that Caitlin was standing now, frozen manacles lying broken beside the chair he’d had her bound to. Shit.

“I’ll show you personal. You think a whore better than a princess because she’ll listen to you? Because she. Will. _Fuck_. You?” She took a step with each word of her last question, verbally punctuating full stops, as she edged closer. She waited until she was barely a breath away, Mick feeling frozen in place as she lowered her voice to a seductive drawl that he found himself straining to hear – afraid of missing one word, even as the sentences that followed filled him with dread.

“My family came from the snow. We survived years alone. Nobody likes to remember why we did so but know this – _we_ have _not_ forgotten. We remember that our family was banished for our so-called crimes. The crime of existing as we do – with power and magic flowing through our veins. We survived in the cold, and our magic became as such. We are cold, we are merciless. You place your whores so highly above me because I cover my skin? You think that, because you are such a prime physical example of masculinity, that any woman would fancy an eternity with you, if only you had the money? Hmm? Let’s see how well you do now – you want gold? Have it.” A flourish of her wrists and suddenly a stack of gold was piled high covering half of the room. “There. More than you weight. But how far do you truly believe this will get you? I now challenge you. _Sir_. Within a year, find a woman to see past the monster and love the man – if you manage to do so, you can keep the gold and your life. Fail, and I will make sure that the last lips to ever touch yours will be mine. As I leach the warmth from you and consume your life.”

At this, Caitlin disappeared in an icy blue mist, the fireplace hissing loudly as its flames were extinguished. Mick remained stock still for a moment, before shaking his head lightly and turning away to catch a nap. “Crazy bitch.”

 

 

The next morning, news had travelled that Mick Rory was now the wealthiest man in the kingdom – a fortune gifted to him by a powerful sorceress. Which was definitely not the plan that had been agreed upon between him and the Snart siblings. A fact that Leonard was only too happy to keep bemoaning as they made their way to Mick’s castle. Loudly. “Okay, Lenny! I get it and you’re right – if Micky sold us out, he’s a jerk. But its hearsay – do we really believe that Micky, of all people, charmed a sorceress into giving him a fortune?” Her surprisingly sensible words calmed Leonard and he began to think. If it were true – they had always been close and Mick owed him many times over, it wouldn’t be too hard to convince him to part with some of the loot. If it wasn’t true, then they could just continue on with the original plan. What neither of them expected was to find their old friend sat in the centre of a gold-filled room, gazing morosely into a jewel encrusted looking-glass.

“She turned me into a monster.” Mick huffed, smoke billowing from his nostrils and his now-scaly skin changed from its current shade of brown to a bright crimson – making it impossible for Mick to hide his embarrassment. Lisa had turned ashen, a dainty hand covering her mouth in shock whilst her eyes filled with unshed tears for her friend; Leonard, having had years of practice under the hand of their tyrannical king, (and father), was able to maintain his composure and prevent his horror at the situation to be revealed on his face. But only just. “Now I have to find a woman to love me by the end of the year – or she’s gonna suck the life and heat outta me. Not even the fun way.”

 

Never let it be said that the Snart siblings were completely heartless – they had made a code a long time ago, sealed with hushed whispers and the pressing together of cut palms to seal the pact, that they would never leave a member of their true family behind. Three years later, having fought off bandits that had turned an unexpected dagger on the siblings, Mick had been added to their code and they would not, _could not_ , turn their back on him now. “We meant what we said Micky.” Lisa said imploringly, crouching beside the scaled man. “You’re family. Not by blood but by _choice_. You chose to help us and we chose to keep you – we kept you when you almost burned us alive and we kept you when those bandits offered you a pretty penny to turn us in – and you took it. You chose to go back on that and keep us safe. We forgave you and _we kept you_. Do you really think we’ll turn away now? You already have a woman that loves you – you’ve been my brother since I was 13. Okay Mick – I _love you_.” She placed a serene kiss to the crown of his head, an arm wrapped around his shoulders and she allowed his head to fall into the crook of her shoulder.

“That is so sweet.” Caitlin’s voice rang out from the doorway where she was leaning against the pillar. “No, seriously - I’m not even being sarcastic. I came to apologise – I was pissed off at your disrespect and I wanted to punish you, which made me lose control. But my magic is binding and I can’t undo it – even if I wanted to, I can’t. The magic calls for romantic love I’m afraid. This woman loves you strongly, that is true, as does this man.” Here she inclined her head at Leonard who tilted his chin in defiance – not prepared to disrespect the woman and earn a similar fate, but not at all ready to admit to this being true. “I wish it were enough. But neither one is _in_ love with you. I truly am sorry.”

Mick gave a weak laugh, scornful and disbelieving. “Look, I get that you feel bad, but what is that gonna do me? I got a year to make someone love me when I look like a dragon. Nobody loved me before you did this – I told you that’s why I needed the money! No apologies are gonna fix this, ‘cause no one will ever love me and now I only get to live another year!” His voice rose with every word until both of the Snart’s had to cover their ears whilst his bellow reverberated around the walls. Caitlin stood still, unaffected and fixed him with a cool glare.

“Please stop. I already explained that I lose control when I’m pissed off, so why are you trying to make that happen now. You have already been cursed so my magic will no longer affect you, but when I become… _her_ , I don’t – _she_ doesn’t care about collateral. It’s easy to sense your love for these two – piss me off and I don’t even want to think what she’ll do to them.” Her voice, whilst strong and unwavering was also soft and beseeching. “Let me help you. I will spend a year by your side acting as your – for lack of a better term – _wing woman_ ”. Her nose was screwed up in distaste as she forced the words from her lips. Mick hated himself for smiling at this woman’s adorableness when she was the reason he was in this predicament at all.

“Alright. You think you can make a woman fall for a dragon-man with an IQ only 35 points higher than my chair’s. Sounds fun. Let’s do it.” Mick didn’t get why people spoke of princesses as being so graceful or being revered for such daintiness if they were all like Caitlin – her response to his statement had been merely a grunt of annoyance and a facepalm.

 

The first few days were the worst. Mick knew how he looked and he hadn’t fooled himself into thinking it would be easy, but he honestly thought if anyone could learn to love a beast, it would be a whore. “They get paid by the hour at the _end_ of the hour - means she has to stay that long to get paid, and she can get to know me.” His explanation of why his was such a stellar plan had Caitlin squinting at him in disbelief. “Your reasoning is ridiculous”, She countered, “A whore is _paid_ to enjoy her time with her clients – it can’t be love if it is bought!” Mick wishes he’d listened; the moment the whore saw him, she let out a fierce scream and fled from the castle at a speed that could rival the Flash Phoenix of Central. The next whore wielded the same results. And the next. And the next. The fifth shook things up at least - she fainted. Soon word spread of the curse and maidens flocked in from around the world, desperate to be the one to break the curse and marry Mick – for word had also spread of the fortune.

Mick always thought that the idea of maidens fighting over marrying him would be enjoyable, that it would be _fun_. There was nothing fun about opening the door to see whether or not the woman would faint or run.

Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months. So far the only luck he’d had was the baker boy – Raymond – who had always been kind to Mick, trying to convince him that he was more capable than he knew; that he could earn a decent wage through legal venues and interest women that way. Mick wouldn’t admit it, but he wished he’d listened to him. Raymond was the only one, after the Snarts, that didn’t scream, vomit, faint or run. He merely blinked owlishly at him for a moment before lifting the basket in his hands and enquiring “Just the bread or would you like meat or cheese?”

Through it all, as promised, was Caitlin. She stood by him for every opened door, placed a consoling hand on his shoulder for every poor reaction and a gentle “She’ll show up” for every shed tear he thought he’d hidden. Not to say that they suddenly became best friends. Despite having some emotional and meaningful conversations, they still argued every day for the first nine months – harsh barbs thrown at one another verbally, and respective flame balls and icicles thrown physically. They fought passionately and unforgivingly, never once apologising, just starting the next day to fight again. Until one day when a far-travelled maiden knocked on the door; she was beautiful and intelligent and she seemed completely entranced by Mick’s scales – she stepped over the thresh-hold at Mick’s invitation, causing Caitlin’s hand to freeze in mid-air, conditioned to seek out his shoulder, but for once finding no cause to do so.

Her name was Savanna, and she seemed perfect. She agreed to stay at the castle, she never flinched away from Mick and actively sought out physical contact, running a hand over his warm scales. She had spoken all about how she had worked with real dragons over sea, caring for them in a menagerie when they were found injured and dying from dragon hunters who turned their hide into gloves and boots, and therefore not being bothered in the least by his affliction. She honestly seemed to be ‘The One’ that might be Mick’s best hope at breaking the curse. Caitlin _hated_ her.

“What the hell is your problem?” Mick roared into her face, cornering her after dinner following Savanna reporting that the reason for her tardiness at dinner was due to her room’s lock mysteriously icing over. Caitlin had merely taken another sip of wine, an innocent expression plastered saccharinely on her face. “She could be _it!_ My one chance to live - to live _happily ever after_ and all that crap – and you’re gonna ruin it!” He cut himself off at the broken expression on her face, rubbing a clawed hand across the expanse of his face. He chose to switch tactics. “I just don’t get it – you said you wanted to help me. That you wanted to make things right; so why are you sabotaging me Cait?”

The both froze at that. Nine months. Nine months, three weeks, five days and twenty-one hours. That was the length of time they had spent together and although in this time Mick had called her a great many names, ‘Cait’, had never been one of them. When she replied, it was clear that she was still recovering from the shock, the words hushed and hesitant. “I wish I could tell you, Mick. I don’t even know myself. This whole time, I’ve been by your side with a weight in my heart for what I’ve done to you; that weight only has grown to increase since Savanna has been at the castle. She has made it clear that she believes herself your solution and that I am no longer needed. I would give _anything_ to undo this pain, this suffering and humiliation. But not this, not _you_. These nine months have been unbearable in many ways – but in others… They have been… I wouldn’t trade them for the world.” She had spoken candidly, and the words themselves were so earnest that they had stunned him. Mick searched his brain furiously looking for something to say, for _anything_ to say, but nothing came. Caitlin apparently took this response as his answer to her heartfelt confession and face burning red, she fled the room.

He didn’t see her the next morning for breakfast. He didn’t see her at lunch. By dinner he was anxious, feeling like he would claw every scale from his body one-by-one if it meant seeing her, a sentiment that didn’t go unnoticed by Savannah. “I’m sorry sweetie, but it’s time for some tough love. She left you Mick – she obviously recognised that she isn’t needed or wanted and finally left us to organise our future. If you ask me, you’re better off; she was so - ” But what she thought Caitlin was, Mick never discovered. Her words still held the same candour that he had found attractive, her voice still seductively hoarse. Her face was as perfectly symmetrical as ever, as was her body. But it seemed so different now, so unimportant. He found himself sending her away, never allowing her the opportunity to finish her, no doubt, scathing remark of Caitlin.

He refused to answer the door when a visitor called the next day, and the next. For the next three months, he wallowed in his room, arguing with Len and Lisa when they tried to coerce him into meeting the new maidens. On the last day of the year, he built the still unspent gold into a circle in the ‘throne room’. He could feel the start of his scales moulting off of him, painfully detaching themselves from his chest and arms. It was almost time.

Mick made his way to the centre of the gold, laid upon the centre and allowed himself to sleep; close his eyes and enter into the void.

He certainly wasn’t expecting to wake up again – certainly not to Caitlin. “Idiot.” She spat the word at him, and he was suddenly reminded so strongly of their first meeting that he couldn’t fight the crooked grin now adorning his features. “You could have had it Mick – you said it yourself. Savanna was perfect for you and I left so you could be happy with her. How the hell did you screw it up?” Her words were become louder, angrier and he found his grin growing.

“Well princess, I suppose if you wanna successful courtship, you probably shouldn’t send ‘em packing and tell ‘em to never even think of coming back.” He allowed a hint of arrogance into his tone, soaked his words in false confidence so she couldn’t tell that he felt two seconds away from having a panic attack. Her mouth dropped open. “’Course”, he added as he stepped into her personal space, “Probably also helps if you’re not crazy over the witch who hexed you in the first place.”

Caitlin looked indignant. “Okay, first of all – I’m not a witch! I am a sorceress of an ancient bloodline of mages. Secondly, it was a curse and – wait. You. You’re crazy?” Her tirade had trailed off and she found herself staggering over her words as his confession registered. “Well, it has been said.” His amusement seeped into his words and he allowed himself to hope as he risked it all, swooping forward to capture her lips in a kiss.

Steam surrounded them, heat and ice meeting in an explosive battle of lips. After just three seconds, Mick could feel the warmth seeping from his bones, the cold overtaking him and almost leaving him paralysed. He didn’t care – right now he couldn’t think of a more perfect way to go that with his lips joined with those of this fiery-willed, ice-woman’s before him. He needn’t have worried. The steam concealed the transformation from Len and Lisa where they had been spying on the exchange, but the scales were freezing themselves off of Mick’s flesh, his temperature dropping to that of a regular human’s whilst Caitlin consumed the excess warmth and felt her powers replenish themselves, having denied herself the use of her magic since Mick’s curse.

When the steam cleared, Mick and Caitlin were revealed, foreheads pressed together both very much alive. Mick’s features were back to normal, save for the burn-like scars left along his torso and arms by the scales he had lost prior to Caitlin’s reappearance. Needless to say, when she cast this curse, she had never intended to be the one to break it, nor had Mick intended to request she curse him again.

“Makes sense”, he reasoned as he held her in his arms, meeting her incredulous gaze, “ – you feel better after you get some super heat in ya, and in all my time as a dragon, feeling the fire under my skin, not once did I need to burn stuff.” Caitlin couldn’t help but chuckle at that, pressing herself tightly against him so that there was no distance separating them at all, and hovered her mouth over his lips. “And to think – you once claimed to have an IQ only 35 points higher than a chair.”

**Author's Note:**

> So yeah... I actually loved writing this but did so whilst babysitting my two very young nieces, so I apologise for any typo's. And Savannah... I totally wrote her in with the intention for her to be someone who was going to pretend to fall in love with Mick in order to steal his scales and kill him with Caitlin finding out and saving him last minute with a line of Mick being her damsel in distress, but somehow this happened instead... May do an alternate ending if anyone shows an interest in it. 
> 
> Please, feel free to review. Happy KillerWave week!!!


End file.
